Session 1
Day 1 - Montbelliard

Machial, The kind and just ruler of our fair city, has summoned a militia. Imagine! My first official Dolsha pass! I have been outside of course – there’s no harm in admitting it; if this book should ever leave me, it will have been pried from my corpse’s hands – but never have I left the Dols with an official sanction! My skin crawled as I approached the guard station….

At the King’s Square, Machial addressed us with a stirring rally. He was flanked by Grumnash, a hobgoblin captain, and one General Var, a shaven human overlord with, it is said, a penchant for half-elven womenfolk (you didn’t expect me to leave the Dols without a bit of digging, did you?). That stinking puppet Prince Omar sat in his finery, grimacing on a jeweled chair. Oh, that someday King Alabas will return and cut the smirk from his treasonous son’s mouth!

Machial ranted and shook his fists about the survival of the human races. The throng all stood and cheered as the wasp riders flew over our heads. How loud would they cheer after they’d been buzzed in a Dols raid? No, this is just another attack from the Outlands. Melora has forsaken us.

I have been placed in a small platoon under the charge of a bugbear named Stong. As green as the day is young, Stong may as well be wearing haybale armor and a bullseye on his chest – he’ll be dead before I sip from my wineskin. The platoon consists of a dragonborn named Kresh, an elf mage of some sort named Athravan, a budding tactician by the name of Onu, and two gobs, whose names I didn’t bother to learn. The elf looks quite timid and sickly, probably another simpering noble’s son who sympathizes with the Usurper. However, I’d think twice before standing toe to toe with the other two. Ha, when did I last stand toe to toe in any battle?

Stong herded us atop a massive trebuchet. The first thing I saw was the angry, poison light from the Siphon, oozing its disease over all Dolsha. Over the wall, I glimpsed a mass of monstrous spiders. Even from miles away, I could hear their legs clicking. This can only be more of the same destruction and greed that is Saraquin’s legacy—no liberator would ride such an abomination!

Someday, we will free ourselves from all this madness. Melora has forsaken us, but Avandra fights at my side.

Vellus' Journal - Chronicle of Montbelliard
The Journal of Vellus Avandrin Freed

If this book is found, you are bound by the Dragon Bahamut’s honor to deliver it to the possession of my brother, Jensis Freed of Montbelliard, or to any surviving member of my family, and to notify them of my death. Read no further.


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